


Hunted by the Hunters

by Iaveina



Series: The Hunters of Erzielen [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AH Fantasy AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iaveina/pseuds/Iaveina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a highly-respected Redstone mage and working for The King definitely had its perks, and Ryan Haywood could say that he was perfectly happy and content with his life so far. But, by helping out a brightly dressed stranger, he didn’t expect to be offered something quite a bit different from what he was used to. Fantasy AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magic and Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> [Royalprat](http://royalprat.tumblr.com) once again let me roll around in a universe inspired by her gorgeous fantasy AU designs. She should probably stop me before I break something and hurt myself.

The capital city of Erzielen was what one would expect from the capital of a large and prosperous nation; a grand collection of buildings of all shapes, sizes and colours sprawling from the far reaches of the city perimeter with a near-constant buzz of noise as the residents and traders went about their daily business without concern. The people who arrived in the city from afar always brought with them snippets of their culture and languages, and it wasn’t a strange sight to see people dressed in strange garments in bright colours giving a demonstration of a weapon or an instrument from their homeland to an enthralled audience. 

The lower town, built outside of the city walls, was largely residential and it wasn’t uncommon to see children rushing around playing - often holding wooden swords and play fighting - whilst their parents worked around them. Lower mage’s, largely untrained in arcane magic and without a fixed specialisation, practiced openly on the streets, their hands waving patterns and lighting up the air as small glyphs momentarily painted the dirt at their feet and wide-eyed children watched. In a field on the edge of the lower town the knights, new and old, trained vigorously in a field as bright-eyed men and women watched from the sidelines, dreaming of the day they could join.

The upper town was a bustling hive of commercial activity, with merchants calling out to the public from stalls decorated with bright signs and smartly dressed civilians making their way purposefully through the cobblestone streets, past the tall grey-bricked houses that lay partially in the shadow of the King’s castle, and towards whatever business they wished to conduct.

The castle itself towered over a large portion of the upper town; made of limestone with spiralling towers rising high into the clear sky and large expanses of stained-glass allowing light into the rooms and corridors within. Crimson flags sat high above on the parapets and even from the ground it was possible to see the helmets of the guards above reflected in the sunlight, whilst the steady sounds of horse hooves and lady’s shoes on the flagstone tiles were sounds that each resident had grown so used to it barely registered. The castle’s courtyards were numerous and, through the generosity and kindness of their beloved King, most were open to the general public, enabling everyone to enjoy the wonders of the fountains and gardens when the weather was pleasant. Which it often was. 

Much to Ryan’s mild annoyance, one of the few courtyards that was not open to the public and one that was mostly bereft of decoration, was the one surrounded on all sides by the workshops of the mages. His own workshop, snugly nestled in the far corner of that courtyard, with its solid oakwood door and a basket full of cheerily bright flowers hanging from the wall next to it, was where he spent the vast majority of his time and he couldn’t help but feel a bit...isolated.

Having been born in the city he was used to the hustle and bustle of the other citizens, the steady thrum of a city alive, but the workshops weren’t located close enough to the buildings of the upper town for the sound to carry and Ryan often found himself mulling over his creations in near-silence. His neighbours, fellow mages in the arcane arts, were all older than him and he found them to be far too serious and involved in their work to socialise with on a daily basis. 

That wasn’t to say that Ryan himself wasn’t serious and involved in his work; as one of the best Redstone mages in the country his skills and expertise were called upon frequently and had earned him a place on the council of the King himself, a privilege which had in turn granted him a vast amount of freedom in his work. 

This freedom he used to his advantage, and his moderately-sized workshop was filled to the brim with experiments of all different sizes and knickknacks that his travels had accumulated. One wall was entirely taken up by a bookshelf, large tomes of nearly every subject imaginable were stacked upon it and as Ryan walked past, automatically sidestepping a spot where the wooden floorboards creaked, a loose sheaf of paper fluttered from where it had been shoved between two books and Ryan sighed. 

He reached the window, pulled on the clasp and pushed it open to let in a cool breeze. They’d been experiencing an unusually hot summer, and despite the usual coolness that the stone walls of the castle were able to give off the heat had quickly reached stifling levels and Ryan had found himself propping his door open and opening all the windows in his workshop in the vague hopes of catching some cool air with limited success.

He breathed in, wiping at the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand and pulling his shirt up over his head. Left in his vest, sufficient enough to maintain a medium of modesty as well as help cool him down, he slung the shirt over the back of the chair at his desk and strolled over to his workbench. He reached out a hand and carefully picked up a delicate golden instrument from where it was propped up on an instrument rack. With his other hand he reached up to the ceiling, where dozens of leather pouches hung by coloured string and, without looking at which pouch his hand closed around he lightly tugged. Easily responding to the movement, the pouch smoothly came away from its string and Ryan gently set it onto the bench, pulling at the piece of string that tied it shut and revealing the contents within.

Inside the pouch, glimmering slightly in the sunlight that streamed in through the open window, sat an indeterminable amount of powdered Redstone. The tiny granules looked soft in the light and as Ryan dipped the golden instrument - a long-handled device with what looked like a strange combination of a scoop and a sieve attached to the end - into the pile they seemed to glow lightly. 

Redstone was a tricky substance to use, owing in fact to its often volatile and dangerous nature, and as such the number of mages who worked with it - let alone specialised in it - were few and far between. Ryan’s own Master, whom he’d apprenticed under for over ten years until his retirement, had been highly skilled in most things but lacked the finesse and the will to fully master anything to do with Redstone at all and, upon discovering Ryan’s seemingly natural affinity with it, urged him to learn all he could. 

And he had, he mused as his eyes drifted to the tall staff propped up in the corner by the open door. An orb, made of pure Redstone ore that had been smelted and molded into shape by a magesmith in the lower town, sat atop it and resonated a faint hum that Ryan’s ears had been trained to hear. 

He slowly measured a small amount of the powdered Redstone with the instrument and deposited it into a small funnel, fixed in place to a stand, that rested atop the opening of a small and thin copper capsule that was securely held at the base of the stand. The powder trickled in, filling the capsule, and when it was full Ryan carefully capped it shut before picking it up out of its holder. He then held it in the palm of his hand and with a soft, but firm, voice commanded.

“ _Heat_.”

He closed his fingers around the capsule as he felt the steady flow of energy in his body shift - rushing up from his feet to his fingertips and emitting out from his palm - and he concentrated on directing it towards the small capsule that rested there. He could feel the Redstone powder react and heard a light satisfying chime, almost like a small bell dinging, as it resonated within the small copper chamber and felt the sudden return of energy from the object. He quickly halted the energy coming from himself, almost nodding as the capsule retained its charge, and reached over to a small box of components. He placed the capsule alongside a similar one that sat, ready and humming slightly, in the box and completed the circuit.

A motor in the box reacted, buzzing loudly for a few seconds before falling silent. Ryan smirked and disconnected the circuit.

“Hey!” 

Ryan looked up towards the open window as a sharp cry filtered in from the alley below, his hands frozen above the box as low mumblings of conversation filtered in and his brow creased in confusion. The alley that looped around his side of the mages workshops was rarely used and if it was he couldn’t think of any reason for anyone to be yelling in it. As the murmurings got louder, clearly forming into a full-blown argument if the loud smack was any indication, he moved towards the open window and prepared himself to break up a fight between friends, but the sight that met his eyes made him freeze. 

He didn’t think the small group below could be described as friends, if the openly hostile looks on the majority of their faces were anything to go by. Two tall, muscular men and one angry looking woman - all dressed in the green armour of the Knights with one of the men seeming to be covered in bright yellow paint - were staring down a slim, lanky young man wearing the strangest outfit Ryan thought he’d ever seen; both hands clamped to his face as thick red liquid streamed from his nose. 

Ryan watched, his jaw dropping slightly, as the tallest man - the one covered in paint - seemed to get ready to throw another punch.

“Hey!” Ryan called, startling the group. The three Knights immediately turned, their alert eyes scanning the windows that faced into the alley and then fixing on Ryan. Their victim, Ryan could hardly find a word in his vocabulary to describe him as anything but, immediately fumbled with the handle of the locked gate behind him in an attempt to use the distraction to flee and Ryan’s sympathy for him grew. “Isn’t there something in your Code about not harming innocents?!” 

“But Sir, he-”

Ryan, raising a hand to shush the woman’s indignant yell even though he was fairly certain she couldn’t see it from where she stood, and interrupted. “I don’t care what he did, you don’t go around beating up civilians. Now get out of here before I report you to your Captain!”

The Knights immediately stood to attention, saluted and after sending brief looks of contempt back at the other man they scrambled out of the alley. 

“Are you okay?” Ryan called, watching as the young man’s free hand dropped from the gate’s handle as the other still remained resolutely covering his nose. He mumbled something that Ryan didn’t catch. “Hang on, I’ll be right down.”

It didn’t take long to get from his workshop to the alley, finding that approaching it from the locked gate quicker than going into the castle itself. He waved a hand, the lock sliding back at the unspoken command, and pulled it open to face the young man in the strange outfit. He was shorter than Ryan and as he looked up at him with bright hazel eyes, one hand still covering his nose, Ryan couldn’t help but realise that the strange outfit he was wearing seemed to be a genuine Creeper skin.

“Er, dank y’u,” the man said, his voice muffled, causing the brief look of surprise that had crossed Ryan’s face to give way to one of concern. 

“C’mon,” he beckoned, gesturing for the younger man to follow him. “I can fix you up.”

Despite giving him a hesitant look the young man silently followed him through the other half of the alley, out into the courtyard - dragging his feet against the flagstones in a way that made Ryan want to tell him to walk properly - and across to the workshop. Ryan gestured for him to take a seat and he did so quietly, propping a bow that Ryan hadn’t noticed before up against the wall beside him, and Ryan’s confusion grew. Archers were rare in this part of the city; tending to keep to the Western side where the target ranges were and rarely carrying their weapons into the labyrinth of corridors inside of the castle. Ryan’s eyes scanned it briefly, noting a certain unfamiliar uniqueness about it, before turning to the stranger.

“Okay, you’re going to have to move your hand y’know,” Ryan stated, waving a hand towards the young man’s face, where his hand was still firmly clamped. “I can’t fix it if I can’t see it.” He winced but complied, dropping his hand to his lap and Ryan’s eyes scanned the damage.

“It could be worse,” Ryan reassured him and the man huffed, rolling his eyes. He raised a hand, the other man watching him warily, and apologised. “This might feel a bit odd.” He rested the hand lightly upon the other’s nose and pulled at the flow of energy within him.

He’d always found it difficult to describe how magic worked, especially when using it to do different tasks. Healing, markedly different from heating something or shields, seemed to access a different part of his magic altogether; a part that almost seemed icy to his senses, as opposed to the gentle warmth he’d used to heat the capsule before. He pulled at the energy, inviting the chilly tendrils to pool together, and channeled it into his hand. In response his hand glowed blue for a moment, eliciting a startled gasp from the man as he quickly closed his eyes against the light, before the energy receded back - melting back into the steady flow - and the glow disappeared.

Ryan knew that he’d been successful even before moving his hand away as the stranger took in a deep breath through his nose and grinned brightly.

“Wow, a _bit_ odd?” He asked, moving a hand to rub his nose and deciding against it upon seeing the blood smeared across his palms. Ryan was immediately struck by the unfamiliar accent, his brow creasing in thought as he moved towards the washbasin in the corner. He dipped a washcloth into the basin, wrung out the excess water and returned to the other man. On his feet now, and looking curiously around the workshop, the man accepted the washcloth with a sheepish grin and carefully started to wipe his hands clean. “Thanks.”

Ryan leant against a table - the top of which was half covered in books, a small pile of miscellaneous clothing and a wicker basket full of chicken eggs - with his arms folded. “No problem at all, I couldn’t just leave you there....” He trailed off, raising an eyebrow at the man. “D’you have a name?”

The man immediately held out his hand, no longer smeared with blood, and smiled “Gavin.”

“Nice to meet you Gavin, I’m Ryan,” Ryan shook Gavin’s hand and continued. “It’s especially nice to meet someone who can get onto the bad side of three of the King’s Knights at the same time.”

Gavin’s smile turned bashful as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and fidgeted with the frayed edge of the washcloth with the other. “Er...I didn’t do anything on purpose,” he explained. “I may have accidentally bumped into the tall one...and he may have accidentally fallen into a ladder...and there might’ve been a guy at the top of the ladder painting a mural or something and...” He shrugged, scrunching the washcloth into a ball and putting it down onto the side of the table. “I did apologise there and then but he wasn’t having it, and then his friends got involved and it just...spiralled from there I guess.”

“They looked like new trainees, and they’re generally quite hot-headed,” Ryan explained, shaking his head. “This heat isn’t helping.” Gavin hummed in response, looking around the workshop with interested eyes. “So Gavin, you don’t sound like you’re from around these parts.”

Gavin’s eyes hesitantly returned to Ryan’s face and he shrugged, folding his arms. Ryan could just about see him tugging on the material of his scarf from where he was stood. “Nah, I’m from Neulin.” 

Ryan blinked at him, his mind mentally bringing up a map of the world. “That’s...pretty damn far,” he breathed, the mental map in his mind highlighting the smaller country. Gavin shrugged dismissively. “What brings you all the way over here?”

Gavin’s expression brightened instantly, an enthusiastic look crossing his features and he unfolded his arms. “I’m actually here with some friends, we’re looking for someone!”

“Well, I know a lot of people around here. Maybe I can help you out?”

Gavin opened his mouth, a clear acceptance of the offer on his face, before he closed it and a look of intense concentration appeared. Ryan could almost see the cogs turning and he stood there, still leaning against the table with his arms crossed, with a look of amusement on his face as Gavin spluttered.

“Wait, you said your name is Ryan right?” 

Ryan nodded. “I do believe I did.”

“Ryan, as in Ryan Haywood?” 

Ryan nodded, still amused by the look of surprise on Gavin’s face. “That would be me.”

Gavin stared at him blankly for a split second before whooping for joy, his hand coming up in a triumphant fist pump and Ryan straightened up; more concerned about how close Gavin was to his material pouches than the cheering his name had induced.

“Oh this is fantastic!” Gavin cheered, grinning widely and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Absolutely bloody fantastic!”

“Dare I ask, why is this fantastic?” Ryan asked cautiously. Gavin waved him off in a gesture that Ryan thought was supposed to be reassuring but was anything but.

“It’s you! We’re looking for you!”

Ryan looked at Gavin, taking in his open and friendly face with excited eyes fixed on him, and carefully replied. “Why are you looking for me?”

Gavin seemed to realise that he’d lost his cool and visibly composed himself before putting his hands onto his hips and proudly answering.

“We’d like you to join The Hunters.”


	2. More Meetings and Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a highly-respected Redstone mage and working for The King definitely had its perks, and Ryan Haywood could say that he was perfectly happy and content with his life so far. But, by helping out a brightly dressed stranger, he didn’t expect to be offered something quite a bit different from what he was used to. Fantasy AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG13
> 
> I got a bit distracted whilst writing this and then I moved countries so...sorry for the delay! I’ve also included a character later on in the chapter who I’m not sure on what...the stance of them being in fanfiction is. If anybody knows anything about it please do let me know!

“The what?”

Gavin froze, giving Ryan a blank stare, before the proud smile slipped off his face and he slumped forward with a defeated sigh. Ryan got the distinct impression that he’d figuratively rained on the younger man’s parade and he raised an eyebrow as Gavin looked up at him, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Y’know? The Hunters!” He tried again, visibly losing his conviction at Ryan’s blank answering stare. He waved his arms wildly and Ryan darted forward to stop him, shooting a weary look up at the pouches hanging from the ceiling. Gavin stopped, not noticing Ryan’s concern, and continued. “The _Hunters_! The best group of fighters and defenders in all of Erzielen!” He rubbed at the stubble on his chin thoughtfully with one hand while the other came to rest on his hip. Ryan was briefly thrown by the strange pronunciation of his home country but he didn’t get the chance to dwell on it. “Or maybe even beyond, I think we’re still working the kinks out on that.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” Ryan stated bluntly, shaking his head as he leant back against the table. Gavin exhaled loudly and whined.

“Awww c’mon! We’re the group that stopped the Golden Highway robberies! When the Forest of Wyn was on fire we went in there and rescued dozens of villagers and we helped them rebuild afterwards! We managed to sort out that quarrel between Hollowston and Eastley before anyone was brutally murdered, and more! We’re one of the single-most successful independent forces in the land, you’ve _got_ to have heard of us!”

Ryan frowned thoughtfully. “I remember The King mentioning something about a group being around for those...” Especially the situation between Hollowston and Eastley; the two port towns being major trading points on the Eastern Coast of the kingdom. King Burnie had been moaning to the Council for weeks about having to potentially go there in person to break up a petty spat about ships and had been almost giddy when news had reached him that another group had stepped in to deal with it. Something clicked inside his mind, like puzzle pieces falling into place, and he stared incredulously at Gavin. “Hey! You’re Geoff’s group!”

Gavin huffed, folding his arms and rocking on the balls of his feet impatiently. “Yeeeah, but we tend to go by The Hunters now...it takes less of the credit away from Geoff and whatnot. Makes it more of a group effort.”

“I’ve gotta say, that’s the first time I’ve heard you guys being called that.” None of the names Ryan had heard Burnie use were particularly polite, but there was always a hint of fondness in his tone when he spoke about the group that his friend had formed after leaving his service. That in itself was strange; being a Knight of the Realm was a highly sought after and coveted position and many had been in awe of Geoff Ramsey’s sudden rise from being a complete unknown to Head of the King’s Guard, leaving his story to inspire men and women of all walks of life from all over the kingdom.

The rumours surrounding his departure from the capital had been, for the most part, entirely wrong. Stories, rife with betrayal, flitted through the city’s gossip mill and before long nearly everyone was under the belief that Geoff had committed an act of high treason; fierce imaginings of epic sword fights between him and the King flitted through the minds of the people and his eventual departure had been left with a dark shroud of mystery surrounding it.

Nobody had asked the King himself what the reason was, and if they had they would have been disappointed to learn that the real reason Geoff left was merely because he was bored. The dreariness of doing the same thing every day for years - wake up in the morning, train new recruits, lunch, practice with the more experienced knights, dinner, meet with Burnie, go to sleep, repeat the next day - really wore him down and the desperate need for change, for excitement, drove him out of the city in search of adventure.

And he’d apparently found it with a small group of misfits. 

Looking at Gavin before him he found it difficult to believe that the younger man was qualified to deal with anything stronger than an excited dog; if that. He was tall - still shorter than Ryan but the mage could recognise that he was of a decent height - with a slim, gangly frame and tanned skin. Curious hazel eyes stared at him from under a mop of sandy-coloured hair whilst his nose could only be described as distinctive. With patches of dried blood on the front of his shirt he looked like a stiff wind would blow him over.

Gavin shrugged. “I guess there’s a first time for everything,” he grinned, the smile lighting up his eyes as he continued. “So, will you join us?”

“Why would I?” Ryan replied incredulously, raising an eyebrow and watching with a small degree of satisfaction that Gavin’s smirk froze. “I have a perfectly good life here.”

“But...think of the adventure!” 

“Who says I _want_ adventure?” Ryan retorted, folding his arms as an increasingly icy look crossed his face. Gavin hesitated, his mouth opening and closing multiple times and Ryan was struck with the impression that he’d seriously derailed the younger man’s thought process and was slightly affronted by the fact that the group thought he’d come without a fight. “I work here for the King, Gavin. I’m not like Geoff. I can’t just drop everything and go off into the wild with no direction to go in. I’m just not like that.” 

“B-but-”

“Why do you need me anyway?”

Gavin visibly hesitated. “Er...well...” He swallowed hard and straightened, a mask of confidence slipping onto his face. But Ryan could clearly see the uncertainty in his eyes. “We’re looking for someone who knows what they’re doing with Redstone,” his gaze moved from Ryan’s face to scan the various materials littering the workshop. “Everyone says that you’re the best.”

“There’s got to be dozens of mages out there you could ask,” Ryan replied dryly, shaking his head incredulously. “I’m probably the worst person to ask to join your merry band of...” The word escaped him and he waved a hand to compensate. Gavin blinked at him, waiting for the finish that wouldn’t come, before shrugging.

“We’ve had trouble finding them,” Gavin said pointedly, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “We did look but the odd ones we found weren’t very...” He pursued his lips slightly, an oddly serious look on his face. “Reputable.” He shrugged again, running a finger along the wooden tabletop. “In the end Geoff remembered you and we thought we’d give it a shot, wouldn’t hurt.”

He turned and leant against the table, folding his arms and giving Ryan a small smile. “I have a lot of respect for what you do,” he continued, cocking his head in the direction of the Redstone staff and Ryan felt a fierce protectiveness stir within. Gavin must have noticed the change in his demeanour as the smile disappeared. “It’s difficult, all this Redstone stuff. I know, I’ve tried it.”

“ _You_?” Ryan couldn’t mask the surprise in his tone and Gavin looked mildly offended. “I’m sorry, Gavin but you don’t exactly look like the mage type.”

Gavin snorted. “I don’t have a magical bone in my body,” he replied cheerfully. “I had to properly measure out the materials, none of that affinity bollocks, and then....I had a little bit of help with the charge.” His hands came to the belt he wore, and Ryan realised with a sickening start that there were little capsules of TnT attached to it. 

“ _How_...?” Ryan spluttered. “How are you still alive?!” Just the thought of Redstone being mixed together with TnT made his blood go cold and his mind scream out at the wrongness of it. 

Gavin glowered at him and folded his arms tightly, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. “I know what I’m doing with this stuff,” he grumbled, tugging on the end of his scarf in annoyance. “But yeah...it’s got to the point where we need help with it, so...here I am, talking to you.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Ryan said blankly and Gavin’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I’m happy here.” 

“And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“Nope.”

Gavin gave a defeated sigh and slumped forward slightly. “Sorry for bothering you then,” he picked up his bow and slung it across his back. He then stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Thanks for your help Ryan.”

“No problem,” Ryan clasped Gavin’s hand and shook it firmly. “Steer clear of the Knights okay? I might not be around to get you out of another sticky situation.”

Gavin smiled sheepishly as he shuffled towards the open door. “I’ll try,” he said quietly, pausing at the door frame. He half-turned, a look of clear hesitation on his face, before he sighed and disappeared out into the courtyard. Ryan heard his footsteps steadily get quieter, and was then left in silence once more.

He sat down heavily in one of the chairs around the table and ran a hand through his hair, looking around the workshop with its various knickknacks and materials; all of which added an air of homeliness and familiarity to the room. From outside the sound of the grand clock chiming the hour floated into the room and Ryan stood up, pulled his t-shirt back on and strode out of the workshop into the heat, picking his staff up on his way out.

\----

“Ryan, am I talking to myself?”

“Er,” Ryan blinked and focused his attention on the King. Burnie, sat at the head of a small rectangular table in the middle of the throne room, stared at him with an eyebrow raised. “Is it that obvious?”

“No shit, you’ve been staring out the window for the last twenty minutes,” Burnie replied, smirking. He clasped his hands before him and prodded the crown that lay abandoned on the silky red cloth covering the tabletop. To the left of the table daylight streamed in through three large windows, the tops of which were decorated with stained glass that sent smatterings of red and black light across the opposite wall, and the clear blue of the sky could be clearly seen by all inside the throne room. From his seat Ryan could just about see the river that ran alongside the capital and some fields in the distance; full of tiny specks that he knew to be cows. “Which isn’t like you.”

“What isn’t like me?” 

Burnie rolled his eyes and leant back in his chair, sharing an amused look with the woman sitting next to him. Ashley, her dark curls pulled into a regal bun and a look of concern clear on her beautiful face, reached forward and gently patted Ryan’s arm. “You look a little out of sorts Ryan, I don’t think we’ve ever seen you this...”

“Distracted. I’m sorry if all this talk of legislation and accounting bores you,” Burnie finished with a teasing grin. Ashley tutted and smacked him lightly on the arm and he laughed heartily. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

Ryan shook his head. “As _thrilling_ as legislation and accounting is…” He trailed off with a small smile, suddenly feeling uneasy at being under the keen gazes of his King and the woman who he could see becoming Queen. He looked to Burnie. “What do you know about The Hunters?”

Burnie’s face was blank for a second before he smiled brightly. “What do I know about The Hunters? Ha! I’ve got an entire desk drawer full of reports on them, I know so much I could write a book!” 

Ashley rolled her eyes with a look of long-suffering fondness on her face. “Why do you want to know?” She asked, turning her head to look at Ryan; her earrings sparkling from the light streaming in from the windows. Ryan sighed.

“I ran into one of their members today,” Ashley nodded slightly, her eyebrow raising in an unasked question. “He told me that they were here looking for me.”

“Geoff’s here?” Burnie asked, huffing. “That little shit didn’t come and see me.”

“It wasn’t Geoff,” Ryan replied, leaning back and folding his arms. “It was Gavin.” Burnie nodded, recognition of the name showing in his eyes and Ryan shrugged as he continued. “You _might_ want to have a talk with the Knights about how they deal with civilians. I wasn’t happy with how they handled things at all.”

Burnie frowned and waved a hand. “I’ll go down tomorrow during training,” he looked up, his gaze quizzical. “You said they were looking for you?”

Ryan nodded. “They want me to join them.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Burnie spluttered at him, looking conflicted. “What? _Why_?”

“They’re looking for a Redstone mage, Geoff remembered me.”

Burnie steepled his fingers and propped his elbows up on the table. “What did you say?”

“What d’you think I told him?! I said ‘no’! I work for you Burnie, I can’t exactly leave everything without a moments notice,” Ryan glared. Burnie raised an eyebrow.

“And if you didn’t work for me? What would you do?”

Silence followed the question. Ryan’s glare turned into a look of pure bafflement and he spluttered, struggling to form words as what he was just asked sunk in, but Burnie’s steady gaze didn’t waver. 

“Are you... _firing_ me?!”

“Oh God no!” Burnie cried, waving a hand reassuringly. “I’m only asking, if you didn’t feel like you had to stay here for me what would you do? You’ve been here for a couple of years Ryan, you gave up a lot to work for me and sometimes I can’t help but think that your talents would be more useful somewhere else.”

“You’ve been a lot more...distant recently,” Ashley added quietly. “And you seem to be giving this a lot of thought.”

“If you decided to take them up on their offer you’d still have a place here,” Burnie continued, sitting back in his chair and drumming his fingers against the armrests. His gaze was kind, with a hint of encouragement, and Ryan sighed deeply. He ran a hand across his face and up through his hair. “Go out, send back a couple of reports now and again, and if you don’t like it come back.”

“Doesn’t Geoff send you reports?”

Burnie snorted. “I get more reports from the towns they go through than Geoff himself, I’m pretty sure anything he’s had a hand in writing has things left out so it’ll be nice to have a reliable pair of eyes in the group.” He grinned with a wink.

“What about all of my thi-”

“Whatever you don’t take with you will stay in your workshop, exactly as you leave them,” Burnie interrupted firmly. “I can send some of the Knights with you if you need help moving anything.”

Ryan sighed, exhaling slowly as his gaze shifted back towards the windows. “So I’m really doing this then?”

Burnie stood and clasped Ryan’s shoulder in a friendly gesture, smiling reassuringly. “If you really want to Ryan,” he replied, patting his shoulder and picking the crown up from the middle of the table. He put it on and walked towards the doors of the throne room. “You start packing, I’ll find Geoff and send him to you.”

Burnie came through on his word and not even an hour later Ryan found himself staring at the former Knight as he stood leaning against the doorframe to his workshop, a barely-packed suitcase sat open on the table and Ryan could only guess the look of frazzled business on his own face. Geoff seemed to be amused by it all, sleepy blue eyes taking in the unusual disarray without comment as he stepped across the threshold and approached Ryan with a hand outstretched.

“Ryan, long time no see!” He greeted cheerfully, his voice squeaking familiarly. Ryan clasped his hand and was slightly surprised by the enthusiasm in which Geoff shook it, leaving a lingering tingle up his arm in its wake. Geoff leant against the table, arms folded lightly, with the smirk. “So, a little birdie tells me that you’ve changed your mind.”

“I don’t think it’s very proper to refer to the King as a ‘little birdie’,” Ryan muttered, striding over to his workbench and gathering materials and instruments together. He grouped the instruments and eased them into a little pouch before pulling a sac from underneath the bench. “But yeah, I’ve changed my mind.” He looked up at Geoff as one hand swept the instruments into the sac. He closed it tightly and wound the cord into a knot before depositing it into the open suitcase, gently placing the instrument pouch on top.

Geoff watched him carefully, not moving from his place by the table. “What made you change your mind?” He asked as Ryan pulled the smaller material bags from the ceiling, placing them carefully onto the empty workbench. The former Knight re-adjusted his gauntlets, an eyebrow slightly raised and Ryan didn’t know how but he could suddenly see the power that Geoff wielded; behind the sleepy-eyed mask lay the calculating mind of a warrior. Ryan froze. “Gavin said that you seemed pretty adamant about not joining us.”

“I had time to think about it,” Ryan pulled another suitcase up onto the table and promptly threw a pile of clothes into it. Geoff laughed.

“Well, welcome to the team then! We did start building a house for you back at base but Gavin _accidentally_ burnt it down…” He trailed off, a fond look in his eyes. “Thanks for helping him out earlier, he needs a babysitter I swear.”

“No problem at all,” Ryan waved him off, looking around warily at his workshop. “How...much should I bring? I won’t have space for all of this will I?”

Geoff shrugged apologetically. “You’ll be in my spare room for a while, but we do a lot of travelling so I’d pack the essentials. If there’s anything you desperately need we can help you out,” he smirked. “We may be a small group but we look after our own.”

Ryan finished packing as Geoff told him about the other members of The Hunters; Gavin, Michael (a strong, angry young man who spent a good deal of his time arguing with Gavin) and Ray (the sharp-minded mediator between the two) made up the Lads (“ _You’ll probably end up as a temporary Lad to begin with, but you don’t wanna be with those dumbasses so stick close to me and Jack,_ ”) with Jack, a long-time friend of Geoff’s and co-founder of the group, being - apparently - their chief voice of reason; invaluable due to his ability to think things through, and already Ryan could tell that they’d both get along. Geoff himself came across as very open and easygoing, and Ryan couldn’t help but like him.

The two made their way out of the workshop, Geoff carrying a set of suitcases with both hands, and Ryan caught sight of the small group, all a bright mix of colours, huddled around the entrance to the courtyard. He could just about hear a deep voice - belonging to the red headed bearded man that Ryan guessed was Jack - telling the others to calm down and he smiled slightly.

“I’ll go and make sure the kids don’t rush you whilst you lock up,” Geoff sighed, like an exasperated parent, before striding out into the sunshine and towards the group.

Ryan turned, pulling the door closed with a light click with one hand whilst the other held onto his staff. He readjusted the bag strapped across his back before waving a hand, hearing the lock slide across into place, and he pushed lightly against the wood; nodding to himself as the door refused to budge. 

Taking a deep breath he turned back around to face the group and took a step towards them; seeing the grins - ranging from simply politely welcoming to downright enthusiastic - on their faces that instantly melted any of the doubt he felt inside.

He didn’t know if the decision he was making was the right one, but he was beginning to welcome the adventure it would bring.


End file.
